


You Have Been Poisoned

by skatergirl83



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: April Fools' Day, B'Elanna's undying love for romance holonovels, Coffee, F/M, Kalhua, Prompt Fic, Tea
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-30
Updated: 2019-08-30
Packaged: 2020-10-02 00:17:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20445185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skatergirl83/pseuds/skatergirl83
Summary: It's Seven's first April on board Voyager. Cue the hijinks.





	You Have Been Poisoned

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a prompt from @manalyzer13. Many thanks to @caladeniablue for the beta read.

“So, of all the pranks you could have pulled, you decided to break through ten layers of security protocols to delete the Doctor’s arm?”

B’Elanna may have sounded incredulous, but no one in the mess hall in that moment could have doubted she looked anything less than delighted. 

Tom folded his arms and rested them on the table, leaning forward towards B’Elanna and Harry as if he were sharing a secret. “Well, I wouldn’t want him to forget that I’m his right hand man, now would I?”

B’Elanna chuckled, nodding in approval as Harry rolled his eyes. “You know, I think it was a great character building exercise for our curmudgeonly EMH,” Tom mused. “It’s a shame April Fools’ Day doesn’t come around every month.”

A frown marred Harry’s normally cheerful face. “Tom…”

“What? I’m being unfair? Haven’t you played any practical jokes on anyone today?” 

Harry dropped his fork down on the table and slumped back in his seat, scowling. “No. But I did find that someone had broken into my quarters and replaced my clarinet with an _ oboe. _” He looked pointedly at B’Elanna.

B’Elanna lifted her mug to her mouth, hiding her smile behind it. “Who, me?” 

Harry’s scowl deepened. B’Elanna set the mug down on the table. “You’ve got to admit it was pretty funny, Starfleet, watching you running around the ship in a panic trying to figure out who’d taken it.”

The scowl on Harry’s face now seemed permanently etched there. Tom pleaded with him. “Oh, come on, Harry, have a little fun. Even the Captain and the Commander get into the spirit.”

B’Elanna’s face lit with a grin. “Chakotay outdid himself last year. I still can’t believe he replicated a meter-tall plush dog and left it on her command chair.”

“For two days,” Tom added, sitting back in his seat and crossing his arms. “Remember how she left that enormous thing in her chair for _ two days _ and used his seat on the bridge instead? And so Chakotay spent his shifts pacing while the Captain pretended there was nothing strange going on?”

B’Elanna raised her mug to Tom as if in a toast, then looked at Harry. “See, Harry? That’s how to handle an April Fools’ prank: with a little revenge.” 

“Oh, so you’re saying I should get revenge on you?”

B’Elanna shrugged. “It could be amusing.” Her eyes narrowed mischievously. “Or… you could help me prank someone else.”

Harry’s eyebrows rose sky-high. B’Elanna reached under her seat and pulled out a standard-issue Starfleet satchel. She popped open the octagonal container and delicately removed a white porcelain teacup decorated with dark pink and wine-colored roses. Both the cup and saucer were edged with a band of elaborate gold filigree. 

She gently nudged the cup towards Harry. 

“And what kind of joke am I supposed to pull with this?” he asked, incredulous.

“Look inside,” she suggested.

Harry reached for the saucer and pulled the cup towards him across the table, peering into the cup. An instant later his head snapped up with wide-eyed surprise.

“And who exactly are you planning on poisoning, B’Elanna?”

B’Elanna reached out to pull the teacup back but her fingers grabbed onto air. Tom had been quicker, snatching the cup and saucer away and pulling it towards him. Now he tipped the cup and looked inside at the inscription, brow furrowed with confusion as he read the words aloud.

“‘You have been poisoned’?”

B’Elanna sat back in her seat, crossing her arms with satisfaction. “We’d fill it with something harmless, of course.” 

Tom looked back into the cup, then back at B’Elanna. “And which one of our unsuspecting friends and colleagues is going to be your intended victim?”

A slow smirk crossed B’Elanna’s face as she looked across the mess hall. Tom and Harry’s eyes followed her gaze to a woman seated alone by the windows reading a PADD, her hair efficiently coiffed in a simple French twist.

“No…” Harry breathed.

Tom seemed equally skeptical. “Seven?”

“Why not? It’s her first April Fool’s Day. Might as well give her a proper introduction to the holiday. A little ‘cultural education,’ if you will.” She caught the eyes of her two companions.

“We?” Harry croaked.

“Why not? Someone to fill the cup, another to weave a distracting tale to convince her to join us. It’s a great group prank.” B’Elanna looked between the two men. “Well? Are we just going to sit here?”

Though he groaned in complaint, Harry reached for the teacup. “Alright, but if she goes running to the Captain, I’m pointing the finger firmly at _ you _, Maquis.”

Tom clapped Harry on the shoulder and began to stand up. “That’s the spirit. I’ll go invite her over. You’ll go fill that at the replicator, Harry? Maybe with some Chamomile tea--That should make her nice and sleepy. Or a nice dark English breakfast tea. She’ll be hopping like a jackrabbit in no time. It’ll make the illusion she’s being poisoned that much more real.” A grin as wide as the Grand Canyon spread across his face.

“Chamomile,” Harry repeated, standing up and walking away.

Tom exchanged a knowing glance with B’Elanna. “Well, he’s no fun.”

B’Elanna hid her own grin behind her mug and watched her minions head off to their tasks. Tom was going to have his work cut out for him, trying to convince the borg woman to abandon her peaceful solitude. Fortunately, the man was the closest thing they had to a grifter on the ship and she knew he’d succeed. 

Harry had returned with the cup of tea and deposited it on the table. A few minutes later Tom sauntered back, Seven in tow.

“Ensign. Lieutenant,” she greeted, towering over B’Elanna and Harry as they sat. 

B’Elanna concealed her excitement with a polite response. “How’s your evening going, Seven?” 

“It is not unpleasant,” she answered, her tone slightly more animated than usual. “Thank you for asking. Lieutenant Paris said that Ensign Kim would like to introduce me to a new Earth beverage.” 

Harry shot a glance at Tom that could only be interpreted as _ You blamed me for this?! _Tom shrugged.

“Yeah, here, have a seat,” Harry said, pulling the chair out for Seven. As she sat down, B’Elanna nudged the teacup towards her.

“What is it?”

“Herbal tea,” Harry answered.

Seven glanced briefly at the cup, then up at Harry. “The collective assimilated individuals with knowledge of over 72 thousand kinds of herbal teas. Which of those would this be?” 

Panic seized Harry and he fumbled for a response. “It’s, um…”

“It’s his mother’s special blend,” B’Elanna filled in helpfully.

Harry shot a confused glare back at her. Something that almost looked like a smile seemed to be tugging at the corner of Seven’s lips and she inclined her head in a half-nod. “Then it is unique.”

Harry coughed into his balled fingers. “Maybe.”

“Just try it, Seven,” Tom ordered.

Seven nodded and took the teacup by the handle, bringing the cup to her lips. Tom, Harry and B’Elanna waited with bated breath as she looked into the cup and took the first sip. 

“It is pleasant,” she decreed. “May I finish it?”

B’Elanna looked entirely surprised as if she hadn’t expected Seven to keep drinking. She extended her hand, palm-up. “Please do.”

The group bantered as Seven drank her tea. Sip by tiny sip, the liquid level in the cup dropped and the anxiety level in Ensign Kim rose. 

“Ensign, you appear nervous and have not consumed any of your meal,” Seven finally commented. “Are you unwell?”

With a glance down at his nearly untouched dinner, Harry realized that he had indeed not managed to eat anything.

“Yeah, Harry,” B’Elanna chided, clapping him on the shoulder, “Nervous about something?”

“Just a long day,” he growled. 

“Perhaps you should consume some of your mother’s tea,” Seven suggested helpfully. “I am finding it quite relaxing.” She went to take another sip and then paused, her eyes falling on the words in the bottom of the cup. 

A look of dismay drifted across her face, her eyes now as large as saucers.

“Something interesting, Seven?” B’Elanna inquired. 

“This cup says I have been poisoned.” Her eyes snapped up to meet Harry’s. Instantly the confusion was gone from her face, its place taken by the detached rage that only a former Borg could express. “Ensign Kim, you provided me this beverage. Why have you chosen this course of action?” she demanded.

Harry suddenly looked like he wanted no part in the exploits he’d been dragged into. “What, me?!”

“I am feeling drowsy. Tell me the effect of this poison. _ Now _,” she insisted, her voice rising in volume.

Tom guffawed. “Seven, it’s April Fools’ Day. It’s just a joke.”

“Arbitrary holidays are irrelevant,” she bit back. “And as to this having been a ‘joke,’ I am most certainly not amused. Tell me the effects of the poison, Ensign,” she repeated, looking back at Harry. 

“There’s no poison, that’s the point of the joke,” B’Elanna interjected, smiling. 

Seven wasn’t smiling. B’Elanna’s face fell and she looked at her companion with concern. “It’s just chamomile tea. It’s supposed to be relaxing. And this wasn’t Harry’s idea. It was mine.” 

Seven’s head turned to look at B’Elanna, suddenly perplexed. “There is no poison?”

“No,” the trio answered in unison.

Seven’s clearly tense body relaxed slightly, but the scowl remained on her face as she spoke directly to B’Elanna. “You still manipulated not only myself but Ensign Kim, and I presume Mr. Paris as well. This behavior is inappropriate. I’m going to speak to the Captain.” With that she stood, snatched the cup and saucer off the table and stormed out of the Mess Hall in a huff.

Harry’s eyebrows snapped together and he crossed his arms, shrinking down in his chair. The glare he shot B’Elanna was as cold as the dinner on his plate.

“Told you so.”

# 

The door chimed on the Captain’s Ready Room. Moments passed slowly for Seven as she stood in the corridor, agitated and anxiously waiting to be let in. Finally the familiar voice of her Captain called for the doors to open. 

Janeway looked up from her couch where she sat, PADD in hand, smiling broadly with Chakotay. On seeing Seven’s sour mood, though, Janeway’s smile fell a bit.

“Seven. You look like you’ve seen better days,” she guessed. Chakotay’s eyes had fallen on the cup and saucer dangling from the woman’s hands.

“Seven, why are you carrying an empty teacup?” Chakotay inquired.

Seven stepped up to the raised area of the room and set the cup and saucer down on the coffee table with a distinct _ clank _. “Lieutenants Paris and Torres and Ensign Kim deceived me into drinking out of this vessel.”

Janeway inclined her head forward as if unsure why this is a problem. “And…?”

“Read the inscription in the cup,” the Borg woman ordered.

Both Janeway and Chakotay leaned over the coffee table, shoulder-to-shoulder, to peer inside. Chakotay began to laugh but concealed it quickly with a cough. Janeway flopped back into her seat and folded her hands on her knee, smiling gently.

“Well, you’re clearly still standing, so I gather whatever was in there wasn’t really poisoned?”

“I am unharmed. The cup contained chamomile tea, and I am merely drowsy. But that is not the issue at ha—“

“So the only thing that’s damaged, you’re saying, is your ego?” Janeway’s eyebrow rose, adding emphasis to her statement.

Seven stewed for a moment, displeased with Janeway’s dismissive tone. “This was not appropriate conduct for Starfleet officers.”

Chakotay, on the other hand, looked as though he were chewing on a problem. “Seven, do you know what April Fools’ Day is?” 

“It is a terran holiday of North American origin and a day of ‘practical jokes.’ The holiday seems fundamentally based on the humiliation of an unwilling victim,” she added.

“Come now, Seven,” Janeway soothed, “Try to think of it this way. It’s a holiday where friends do something unexpected and surprising to each other so that they _ all _ can get a laugh. Your enjoyment or misery is entirely in the way you look at it. Tom, Harry and B’Elanna must think of you as part of their group, to have done this. It’s a good sign.”

“That does not alter the fact that it is a profoundly unprofessional behavior. Lieutenant Torres orchestrated the ‘prank.’ I demand that, at the very least, she be reprimanded.”

The parental smile was fixed on Janeway’s face as she delivered her decision. “Sorry, Seven. Not today. But there is something _ you _ can do.”

“Explain.”

The smile on Janeway’s face became so sweet it bordered on saccharine. “Why, you need to take _ revenge _, Seven.”

Seven’s eyebrows snapped together. “Revenge seems even more inappropriate than the initial ‘prank’ itself.”

Chakotay stood up and walked towards the replicator. “Not today. Not when it’s a practical joke. That’s how they work.” He turned towards Janeway. “Captain, I’m going to help myself to some coffee, if you don’t mind. Can I offer you some? I’m using my replicator rations, so this is on me.”

“That’s so kind of you. Thank you.” Chakotay looked at Seven. “Can I get you anything?”

“No, thank you.”

He ordered the drinks and Janeway continued the conversation. “Seven, you just need to think of a practical joke to play on B’Elanna in return.”

“I fail to see why I should undertake this course of action. This behavior is inefficient.”

“Because the mutuality of the prank is what deepens the friendship,” Janeway explained. “And is it inefficient? Maybe, but it certainly lightens the mood. Look how it’s boosted the crew’s morale today. Certainly _ that _’s not inefficient.”

The blonde woman considered the comment as Chakotay returned to the couch with two mugs, handing one to Janeway. “The trick is to pick the _ right _ prank,” he offered. “We can help.”

This was met with skepticism, as the tone of Seven’s next question was filled with more doubt than hope. “You can?”

“Why not?” Janeway chirped, her eyes darting up to the ceiling in thought. “Let’s see? What would annoy B’Elanna but not actually anger her? You’re not out to harm anyone, physically or emotionally, but just to get her to laugh at herself a bit...” Janeway paused for a moment, then snapped her fingers. “Maybe you could switch out her favorite holodeck program for a romance holonovel.”

Mischievous ideas were clearly percolating in Chakotay’s mind as well, his eyes narrowed in concentration. “What about replacing all of the tools in her jacket with spoons and forks from the mess hall?” He was talking directly to Janeway now, as if Seven were no longer in the room.

Janeway flashed him a quick smile. “I like that idea.” She took a sip of her coffee only to nearly spit it out, momentarily seized by a coughing fit. 

“Are you alright, Captain?” Seven asked.

“Just fine,” Janeway sputtered, glaring pointedly at Chakotay. “You might consider swapping her coffee for _ kalhua _.”

Chakotay smiled at her innocently. “Really? Who would do such a thing?” Janeway shot him a glance that would have translated to expletives had it taken the form of words, before resting the mug back on the table. 

“Try it, Seven. You’ll be surprised how it will not only make you feel better, the camaraderie of mutually shared embarrassment will deepen your friendship with Lieutenant Torres.”

Seven pondered this for a moment, debating her alternatives. “It would indeed be interesting to observe how she reacts to having the extra tools in her jacket temporarily replaced with dining implements. I shall try that.”

“Please do,” Janeway suggested. “You have our full permission. Let us know how it goes.”

“I will. Thank you Captain, Commander.”

“Dismissed,” Janeway called, and Seven exited the room. Only once the doors had hissed closed behind her did both Janeway and Chakotay burst into laughter. 

“I’ve got to hand it to you, Kathryn,” he said, catching his breath, “you’ve got a great poker face.”

Janeway clearly couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “Me?! You’re the one who filled my mug with 40 proof liquor and didn’t bat an eye!” 

He smiled smugly. 

“That’s what you get for reducing me to the rank of Petty Officer for the day,” he retorted, tugging on his collar to call her attention to the new and unusual pin that rested there. “I’m surprised Seven didn’t notice. Mind telling me when it was you managed to steal _all_ _six_ of my Commander’s bars from my uniforms from my quarters?”

Janeway pouted. “I do, as a matter of fact. That’s for me to know and you to find out, possibly never. Now quit grinning like a cat that just bagged a big, fat canary and tell me how you managed to fill my mug with booze while I was still in the room.”

“You weren’t,” he corrected, as calm as ever. “I tweaked your replicator settings last week.”

She sat speechless for a moment. Was this unexpected? Yes. Surprising? 

Nope.

With a knowing smile she reached out and playfully smacked his arm with the back of her hand. “That’s what I get for turning my back on you,” she teased. “Well done.” 

He beamed. “Do you think we should warn B’Elanna?”

Janeway leaned back and crossed her arms and legs comfortably. “Now, why would I want to deprive Seven of the opportunity to observe the behavior of a severely annoyed half-Klingon woman in her natural habitat?”

A cheshire-cat grin spread across Chakotay’s face. “Alright, but I’ll bet you half a week’s worth of replicator rations that B’Elanna is going to try to disassemble our resident Borg before the day is done.” 

“Oh, come now, Chakotay, do you really think a little prank like that is going to backfire?” 

“Never underestimate the Klingon temper.” He started to take a drink from his mug and stopped. “Not like B’Elanna doesn’t deserve it, though.” He sat his mug down. “I wasn’t kidding about that bet.”

Her clear blue eyes held his for a moment, and then she leaned forward, her tone stern but her expression expectantly triumphant. 

“Then get comfortable, Petty Officer Chakotay,” she joked, “because I think B’Elanna and Seven are going to _ enjoy _ it. A week of replicator rations, you said? You’re on.” 

“Aye-aye.” He leaned back into the couch, settling in. “I suppose there are only six more hours left before April 2nd. I’ve got nowhere to go.” 

Everything they needed to say to each other they each said with a grin. But before they turned to other things, Janeway’s bemused expression turned into a fully-fledged smirk. 

“What?” Chakotay asked. 

She answered him, her eyebrows dancing up with amusement as she did. 

“Now I know why B’Elanna wanted to borrow my teacup.”

  
_~ fin ~_


End file.
